Solenna’s eyes glittered. “Because you neverlet it.Because deep down, you still believe you’re cursed. And curses, my dear, protect themselves.”
Cleo screamed again.
The Rift cracked, the sound like thunder inside the chamber.
Beyond the gate, somethingmoved.Massive. Shifting. A shadow with a hundred eyes. A god that had forgotten its name.
Solenna reached toward it. “I’ve waited five hundred years for this,” she whispered.
“No,” I snarled. “You waited five hundred years forme.”
I pulled everything. Every shard of shadow. Every scream of the soul. Every drop of death I’d hoarded in my cursed veins. And I unleashed it.
It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t beautiful. But itworked.
The pedestal shattered. The chalice exploded. The runes flickered—andfoughtback.
The Rift didn’t close. But itrecoiled.
Cleo collapsed against me. Her skin was fever-hot. Her veins glowed with light.
I caught her. Held her. Glared up at the woman who had once taught me how to love… and then betrayed everything love meant.
“This isn’t over,” I spat.
Solenna laughed, stepping backward into the undulating mouth of the Rift. She stepped through the crack in reality, into the seam. “Of course not. The first act is never the last.”
And then she was gone. The Rift pulsed once. Fell silent.
Cleo trembled in my arms, unconscious but breathing.
The gate was still open. The Rift was wider. Not sealed. But my bond with Cleo? Shattered.
Solenna, the woman I once trusted with my soul, had used both of us to start the end of the world.
I’d barely gotten Cleo into my arms before the Rift screamed.
It wasn’t a sound, not really—more like a vibration that shattered the world from the inside out. The floor beneath me buckled, stones cracking in a perfect circle around the portal. Light and shadow flared along the arch, the runes pulsing faster, out of rhythm—panic, pain, power too wild to be held.
And then they came through. Not in one wave. Inlayers.
The first were shadows—figures of smoke and bone, slipping through the cracks like spilled ink. They had too many limbs, no eyes, mouths that split vertically like ruptured skin. They didn’t move like men. They slithered, twisted, glided, dragging chains made ofsound.
One screamed, and I felt blood leak from my ear.
Cleo stirred in my arms, unconscious but glowing faintly. Her light was pulling them in like a beacon.
They wantedher.
I stood, pain shrieking in every joint, and stepped between her and the oncoming tide.
They paused. Not because they feared me—but because theyrecognized me.One of their own. Half-cursed. Part-shadow. Almost broken.
I met their gaze—if they had one—and summoned what was left of my magic. Deathlight flickered in my veins, sickly and dim.
I was nearly dry. The drain from the false ritual had gutted me. But I’d die on my feet before I let them touch her.
“Come on,” I hissed, lifting both hands. “Let’s finish this.”
